


Curtis & Son, Gambler Extraordinaire

by MCO



Category: Scorpion (TV 2014)
Genre: Father-Son Relationship, Gambling, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-20
Updated: 2016-10-20
Packaged: 2018-08-23 16:38:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8334742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MCO/pseuds/MCO
Summary: Every addiction has to start somewhere...





	

**Author's Note:**

> A big thank you to happyquinntobycurtis (Flavato_Forever) because without her intervention, that would be painful to read.

Martin Curtis was torn. There was a huge blackjack game tonight at Rubio in Queens. A huge whale should be present and he was really feeling it this time. However, it was a bad day for Deirdre today; she couldn’t possibly look after the kid.

His Toby may be a little genius, but he was only 4. He may already read Roald Dahl and Dickens on his own, but he couldn’t be left unsupervised. Not yet, anyway.

Martin looked at his son, who was playing some sort of game he didn’t understand with the few stuffed animals he won for him at Cony Island last year. It seemed to involve a lot of play-acting. His son deserved better than what they could offer him right now. With Deirdre’s doctors and treatment, they were already drowning in hospital debt. Toby would need money to go to college soon -- way sooner than they had expected, by the look of it. 

If Martin played tonight and beat the whale -- he knew that he would do it; his luck had been up in the past few days-- there wouldn’t be any problems anymore. He could offer Deirdre the best medications and the best specialists. He could send Toby to the private school for geniuses that he had heard about, and then to whatever college he wanted. He could give to his son everything.

If the whale was as big as Rubio said, he could even buy his family a house in Westport. 

He needed to go to this game. But he didn’t have any money and couldn’t possibly pay for a babysitter for Toby. 

Could he bring Toby to the game? That would be the best solution. Rubio wouldn’t like it, but Martin was too big of a player for Rubio to slam the door on Martin’s face. If he brought a few books, Toby would stay quiet the whole time. Plus, considering how late it was, the kid would probably fall asleep not very far into the game.

“Tobes, we’re going out. Go grab your jacket,” he ordered.

“But it’s bedtime soon,” the kid protested.

“Since when do you care about bedtime? You usually throw a tantrum,” Martin answered. Toby seemed to not have an answer to that.

“We’re going out to play, kiddo,” Martin added as an insensitive.

It worked, of course. Toby eyes lit up, and he was running to the closet faster than his little legs should have been able to go.

Martin grabbed the book that Toby was reading earlier in the day and put it in his satchel. He risked a look at Deirdre, still curled up on the sofa, staring blankly at the TV. There was nothing he could do for her when she was like that. When he won tonight, though, then he would have everything he need to help her.

\----

Rubio wasn’t really happy to see him come in with Toby on his hip, but he let him in the game, as Martin had expected. What Martin hadn’t expected was Toby’s sudden shyness, almost fear once the whale came in. The kid refused to let him go. So he played with the kid curled up on his lap, sucking his thumbs contently. Thankfully, Toby was quiet; he seemed fascinated by the cards. Martin had thought that the kid would be asleep by now, but he seemed focused on the game the whole evening.

The evening didn’t last long. It turned out he wasn’t lucky at all; soon he was down to only a hundred dollars. The whale requested a break, and Martin wanted to use this time to try to relax so he could be able to focus more for the next few hands.

“You shouldn’t have ask for another card,” Toby’s tiny voice interrupted his relaxation exercise

“What?” Martin asked.

“You shouldn’t have ask for another card. There were too many possibilities for you to get a too-big card.” Toby explained.

Martin knew that, but with his lack of chances, he had lost his cool and bet anyway. But how did Toby know that?

“How the hell do you know that?” he asked his son.

“I counted,” the kid answered with a shrug.

Martin shushed him quickly, reflexively. He knew that it was impossible for his four-year-old to really count the cards like that; most adults can’t even do that. Hell, he himself had a hard time keeping track at the end of a night, and he had trained himself hard.

Then again, his kid was reading books that most of the guys here couldn’t even begin to understand.

Martin grabbed the deck of cards, and played a few blank hands. Each time, he’d ask Toby if they should add cards or not. Each time, Toby’s answers were right. 

“Okay, that’s what we’re going to do,” Martin said. “Once we start to play again with the other man, you will tap discreetly my chest when I need to say no, okay?”

“Like this?” Toby asked, doing exactly what was asked. 

“Exactly like this.” Martin beamed at his son.

And that’s what they did. It was an hour and ten thousands dollars in his pocket before Toby missed a call; he was getting a little grumpy. But it was one in the morning, and the kid was more asleep than awake. It was time to call it quits.

As he carried Toby home, Martin couldn’t help but think that bringing Toby to his game was his best idea ever. Not only could the kid help him win every hand, but he had to leave before he could lose it all.

Plus, he knew his son had had fun.

From now on, he decided, he would bring Toby with him whenever possible. Not every time -- he knew those kind of places weren’t really for kids -- but as often as he could.

The End


End file.
